


Green-Eyed Monster

by NuclearMcDuck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Has Issues, Fake Relationship, Hell Trauma, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Past Abuse, Poor Cas is horny, Sam Ships It, Sexual Tension, Witchcraft, homophobic slur, love spells, things get complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29920929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearMcDuck/pseuds/NuclearMcDuck
Summary: Sam Winchester issickof his brother refusing to act on his painfully obvious feelings for once-angel of the Lord Castiel. Now that Cas is human and living in the bunker, it seems like the perfect time for their relationship to bloom -  and if Dean won't make a move, then maybe it's time for Sam to force his hand.How will Dean react if Cas starts dating adifferentWinchester?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 29
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Finnijer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnijer/gifts), [Tically](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tically/gifts).



> Doing my obligatory re-watch of Supernatural after the international holiday that was November 5th 2020. Destiel is canon; _we did it, lads_.
> 
> Only up to season 10 now, so this is set in season 9; Cas is human, Gadreel got kicked out before he could do bad things, Cas is living in the bunker.
> 
> Shout out to Jen and Tic! Thank you for this idea, and your continued enabling of my bullshit over Discord ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ ) And an extra special shout-out to my housemate, who I regularly force to read my fics, and who does an excellent job of reacting loudly °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° _Bless you, Lulu_ (Ɔ ˘⌣˘)˘⌣˘ C)
> 
> Rating for future chapters.
> 
> Blease comment if u liek it ᕕ[ ́ ل͜ ́ ]੭

There were so many ways that everything could have played out, but it was probably best that it happened this way.

Cas, newly human after Metatron closed heaven, had been captured by Bartholomew’s followers. Weak as he was, he had still managed to get away… With the stolen grace of an angel inside him.

It enabled him to fly directly to the Winchesters, find Sam, and forcibly expel Gadreel from him.

Sam had collapsed, and Cas had poured every last remaining shred of grace he held into healing him.

Dean had found them like that, sprawled on the ground unmoving, and nearly broken right then and there… Until he pulled himself together enough to register the slow rise and fall of their ribcages.

Cas woke up after a full day had passed. Sore, tired, but able to relay what had happened. They opted not to tell Sam.

Sam awoke two days later, miraculously healed by Cas’ sacrificed grace.

Cas’s relief was dampened by the knowledge that he would need to leave. He had asked Dean if he could get him an ID before he left this time, as he’d learned that the shelters wouldn’t let him in without one. And perhaps a resume of some description, and maybe he could be a reference on it?

Dean had pulled him into a hug and said _no_. No, because Cas wouldn’t need to go to a shelter, or get a new job. No, because Cas didn’t have to leave anymore. He was _already_ home.

━━✶━━

It started out as the most inane, _stupid_ thing in the world.

Dean and Cas were dancing around each other. Movie nights were cuddling sessions for them, unless Sam dared to point it out, in which case Dean firmly wrapped himself up in a cocoon of blankets six feet away from poor Cas, who would always pout like a baby whose candy had been snatched. Dean made breakfast, and would bring Cas his in his bed, complete with a fresh cup of coffee. Sam complained, jokingly, that _he_ didn’t get room service, to which Dean flushed and grumble something unintelligible. Cas, too, plodded along after Dean, looking like a love struck puppy, always eager to join whatever Dean did; letting Dean teach him how to load, clean, and fire a gun; letting Dean pull old coats out of long-untouched wardrobes for Cas to try on; letting Dean drag him into the garage to teach him how to care for the cars. Dean even letting Cas under baby’s hood, while he made Cas watch him change the oil.

The three of them hunted together when they found a case, and Cas fit in alongside them like he was always meant to be there. And in between the hunts, they were just… A family. It wasn’t just Sam and Dean now; it was Sam, with Dean and Cas.

It had been a long time coming, and Sam was inordinately happy for his brother. Sam had always clung to the belief that even a hunter could lead a happy, somewhat domestic life, if they had the right person by their side. It was clear that, for Dean, _Cas_ was the right person. It was _so obvious_ that Dean was head over heels for Cas.

At least, it was to _Sam_.

“So, when are you two going to make it official?” Sam asked Cas one morning, Sam freshly returned from his run, and Cas fresh from his bed, sipping coffee at the table.

Cas’ eyes followed Sam as he pulled a seat out across from him and fell across it, his head tilting the way it did when he didn’t understand something. “What is who making official?” He asked, squinting intensely at Sam.

Sam grinned at him. “You and Dean,” He said, smiling wider as Cas choked on his coffee, coughing as he put the mug down. “Or have you already moved in together without telling me?”

Cas wiped at the drops of coffee he’d spilled on his shirt, clearing his throat loudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He said stiffly.

Sam laughed, tossing his feet up on the chair next to him, happily stretching his legs. “Sure, like you and Dean are so great at hiding it.”

“We’re not hiding anything,” Cas said, staring hard into his coffee mug.

Sam took a moment to examine Cas, and his stomach twisted as he took in Cas’ slumped shoulders, downcast eyes, his deep-set frown. What the hell kind of landmine had he stepped on-?

“Did you guys have a fight, or something?” Sam asked gingerly, sitting back up.

“Oh, no, of course not,” Cas responded, hands wrapped around his coffee mug, staring at its contents.

“Then… What’s wrong?” Sam ventured, folding his hands on the table in front of him, leaning down to try and catch Cas’ eye.

He caught Cas’ little half-smirk, his barely-there huff of laughter. “You’re a lot more communicative than your brother,” He said wistfully.

“Okay, so you _are_ fighting,” Sam surmised, sighing heavily through his nose as he nodded knowingly. “About anything in _particular_ , or… ?”

“We’re _really_ not fighting, Sam,” Cas said with a firm shake of his head. He gave Sam a reassuring smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“Okay, so Dean is refusing to _acknowledge_ something that you’re fighting about?” Sam guessed, throwing in a sympathetic look for good measure. “C’mon, Cas – no one knows how stubborn Dean can be better than _I_ do.”

Cas gave him another little half-smirk, and Sam could tell he was close to cracking. Cas actually _liked_ talking about his feelings; Dean was just teaching him bad habits. “It’s just… He confuses me sometimes.”

“You’re new to the whole human thing,” Sam reassured him. “Only natural to get confused sometimes. What’s he giving you the run around on?”

Cas took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling, fingers tightening on his mug. “Maybe it’s all in my head…” He muttered, chewing on his bottom lip.

“If you have a Dean-problem, you are talking to the world’s foremost expert,” Sam quipped. “What trouble is Dean causing in paradise?”

Cas gave his coffee mug a hard look, silent for a beat; Sam waited until Cas nodded at his coffee cup, looking up at Sam with resolve in his eyes. “I would like to pursue a relationship with Dean that is romantic in nature, but I am not sure that he reciprocates my feelings.”

Sam stared. The perfect picture he had in his head of the two of them, adoringly staring into each other’s eyes when they thought no one else was looking, cracked in half down the middle. It felt, oddly, like the day they’d learned John had fathered another son; some kind of familial betrayal.

“But…” He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, ”I thought you were already together?”

Cas gave an exasperated huff, rolling his eyes. “Sometimes I think so, too,” He said forlornly.

“ _Wait_ , so you guys haven’t-?” Sam didn’t want to pry _too_ deeply; he certainly didn’t need to know what _base_ Dean had taken Cas to, but he’d just _assumed_ -

“He holds me, sometimes,” Cas said quietly, curling in on himself a little, pulling the coffee mug in to cradle against his chest. “But… When I- if I _mention_ it, he stops."

Sam frowned. _This_ shit again? It wasn’t like Sam hadn’t found the “ _fitness mags_ ” along with Dean’s collection of Busty Asian Beauties. He’d assumed that Dean must have gotten over himself and his twisted view of masculinity by now. “Have you tried just… Reciprocating his touches? You know, little flirty things?” Sam asked.

_I’m giving an ex-angel advice on seducing my brother_ , he thought idly. _Just another day in the bunker_.

He was surprised when Cas gave him an irritated look. “Of course I have,” He said indignantly. “He pulls away!”

Cas looked back at the mug, grumbling. Sam, reassessing everything he had assumed, let the analytical side of his brain take over.

  
“What the hell is his problem…?” Sam wondered aloud, mentally re-contextualising all of the sweet, intimate moments he’d witnessed between them. “It’s so _obvious_ that he loves you…”

The sound of Cas’ chair scraping across the floor startled him; Cas had bolted upright in his seat, spilling coffee across the table with his sudden movement, wide eyes locked on Sam.

“Did he _tell_ you that?” Cas asked tensely.

Sam reached across the table and patted one of Cas’ white-knuckled hands. “He didn’t need to; he’s clearly smitten,” Sam informed him.

Cas’ face looked like it was being pulled in different directions; he looked like he was about to cry and laugh simultaneously. “You think so?” He said, so softly it might have been to himself.

Sam pointed to himself with a grin. “World’s foremost Dean expert here,” He announced proudly. “I _know_ so.”

Cas’ beamed at him, and Sam was going to inform Dean just how much he owed to his little brother when these two tied the knot.

But Cas’ joy didn’t last, punctured by a slowly growing frown. Sam tilted his head in question. “Cas?” He asked gently.

“If he- If he really-“ Cas coughed, tried again, “If he really feels that way, then… Why does he keep pushing me away?” Cas asked miserably.

Okay, Sam knew a _lot_ about Dean, but even he could admit that Dean kept this part of himself pretty close to his chest. Even _he_ wasn’t sure what exactly started Dean on the path of rejecting what he perceived as ‘ _not manly enough’_ , which generally included all things LGBT. Sam felt a pang of guilt at all of the 'gay' and 'girl' jokes he’d thrown Dean’s way over the years, but in his defence, he’d _learned it_ from Dean – and he _really_ hadn’t thought that that particular wound ran deep enough to get in the way of his _profound bond_.

But analytical-Sam had been activated, and although the source wasn’t clear, his mind was already producing a plan to resolve the situation. “Hey, do you remember that time that guy at the bar was hitting on you?” Sam asked.

Cas responded with his classic head-tilt-and-squint combo. “In San Francisco, the bar with all of the leather. The man that interrupted our hunt.”

Sam scoffed. “Is _that_ what Dean told you?” Sam asked incredulously. “He was with _me_ when he saw that guy put his hand on your waist, and he stopped mid-sentence during a conversation where we’d finally found a lead, and _pushed people out of the way_ to get to you.”

Cas regarded Sam quizzically. “… Why would he do that?”

“Because he was _jealous_ ,” Sam said smugly. “He couldn’t _stand_ watching some guy chat you up. It’s a miracle we found that rougarou at _all_ , with the way Dean carried on.”

“He _was_ very clingy that night,” Cas recalled, and that just confirmed it; Sam knew his plan would work.

“Well, why don’t we try it again?” Sam asked mischievously.

“Try what? Killing a rougarou?” Cas said disbelievingly.

“Making him jealous.”

Cas took a tentative sip of his coffee. “Tell me more.”

━━✶━━

It was going to be easy. All they had to do was make Cas maintain eye contact with Sam, smile at Sam, and talk mostly to Sam during conversations with the three of them. No more lovey-dovey heart eyes at Dean; if anyone was getting eye-fucked, it was _Sam_.

“Every time you want to look at Dean, look at _me_ instead,” Sam instructed, oddly giddy as they prepared. They had retreated to Cas’ room when Dean came out to make lunch, Dean shooting them a funny look as they hurried down the hallway, heads down and whispering to each other.

"I look at you when you're in the room, Sam," Cas said admonishingly.

"Not if Dean is in the room, too," Sam replied flatly, heroically keeping the pout off of his face as he says it.

Cas opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to catch himself. “He _is_ very nice to look at,” He conceded.

_Oh my god, they’re so cute_. “Let’s go out there right now,” Sam suggested eagerly. “See if you can keep your eyes off of him for more than a few minutes.”

━━✶━━

They found Dean in the kitchen, preparing burgers; he had taken to making the patties himself, rolling the mince in flour and herbs, tongue poking out from between his teeth as he concentrated on shaping the mixture into spheres. He was even wearing one of the white aprons the Men of Letters had left behind, looking absolutely at home in the kitchen.

Already, Cas was staring at Dean.

“Hey, need any help?” Sam asked, moving past Cas, deliberately stepping into Cas’ eye line to give him a _look_.

“Nah, I’m good,” Dean said, distracted by the patties. “Unless you wanna peel the potatoes? Was gonna do hand-cut chips.”

“Ooh, fancy,” Sam said, moving to the cutlery drawer.

Cas looked helplessly at Sam, obviously requiring direction.

“Cas, why don’t you go get us some aprons?” He suggested, and Cas nodded, obeying.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands, if you’re gonna help,” Dean warned, not looking up from the patties. “I run a clean kitchen.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said dismissively, pulling out two potato peelers. He washed his hands under Dean’s baleful glare until Cas returned and handed him an apron.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam said, pausing to give Cas a wide smile. Cas met his eye, and Sam held his gaze for a beat; Sam added a wink, for good measure.

He could see Dean in his peripherals, just over Cas’ shoulder, pause in his movement and look up at them. “You two gonna help, or what?” He demanded, pulling another palm-full of spiced mince from the bowl.

“We’ll get there, there’s no rush,” Sam admonished him, sliding the apron over his head and deftly tying it up at the back.

Cas watched him and copied his movements, but Sam caught his wrist before Cas could reach behind himself and tie it up. “Let me,” He said, spinning Cas around.

Cas was then facing Dean, who had, again, looked up. Sam risked a glance over Cas’ shoulder, and found Dean staring at them quizzically.

“Uh… Thank you, Sam,” Cas said, allowing Sam to tie the apron closed behind him. Sam let his hands rest on Cas’ waist for _just_ a moment too long. That guy at the bar would have _nothing_ on Sam.

“You look good in an apron!” Sam announced, and saw Dean stand up straight, patties forgotten. “Your waist is so tiny, I bet I could wrap my hands around it!”

Smirking a little, Sam _tested_ the theory, wrapping his hands around Cas’ waist where the apron cinched it; his fingers ended up a good few inches apart over his abdomen. “Huh, pretty close,” He said, and promptly turned away from Cas to grab the potato peelers.

He revelled in the utter silence that engulfed the room behind him.

“Uh… Hey, Cas,” Dean said. “Why don’t I show you how to make the patties?”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said, happily trotting over to Dean’s side.

“You’re not gonna make him wash his hands?” Sam teased.

“Oh – right. Cas, go, uh…” Dean gestured to the sink.

Dean was freaking out _already_. Those two would consummate the relationship by dinner.

Sam fetched a bag of washed potatoes while Cas washed his hands, and Sam set himself up on the other side of the table from Cas and Dean. He was peeling potatoes, calculating his next move, when Cas joined them again, standing at Dean's side.

Sam met Cas' eyes and gave him a pointed look, to which Cas looked chagrined.

Dean interrupted the staring contest by nudging Cas with his elbow. "Grab a handful all I'll show you how to shape or it - you wanna make a little sphere to flatten into the patty..."

Sam smirked, watching as Dean sidled right up against Cas, needlessly guiding Cas into forming the meat into a neat circle in his palms. He watched his brother slip his arms around Cas' waist so he could hold his hands over Cas', holding them in the right position to roll the mince in between his palms.

_This is that scene from that Patrick Swayze movie_ , Sam thought, snorting out loud. _This is the pottery scene from Ghost_.

Dean glanced at him, and Sam only grinned back, peeling the first potato.

Dean glared when Sam started humming _Unchained Melody_. 

"Alright, I think you've got it," Dean mumbled, stepping away from Cas.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas murmured back, glancing up at Sam.

Sam was kind of impressed that Cas remembered not to look at Dean, but the light blush on his cheeks suggested maybe he _couldn't_ look at Dean right now.

"Once you're done over there, I'll show you how to peel potatoes," Sam said with a wink.

Dean glowered at him, only softening when Cas replied, "It looks fairly simple. I'm sure I can manage."

It was Dean's turn to smirk at Sam, apparently. "And you shouldn't trust this Sasquatch in the kitchen anyway," Dean said onfidently. "If you wanna learn to cook, you gotta learn from someone who knows _how_."

"Don't listen to him, Cas, I'm a _great_ cook," Sam said. "Dean just hates healthy food. If you want to learn to eat _right_ , come to me."

Cas was doing an admirable job of keeping his eyes on either his hands as they shaped the meatball, or on Sam; they never wandered over to Dean... Who was starting to notice.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, and Cas admirably kept his eyes on Sam.

Dean seemed to be waiting for Cas to turn to him, staring hard at the side of his head.

"Yes, Dean?" Cas asked, still looking directly into Sam's eyes.

Dean stared between the two of them, confusion warring with frustration on his face. _Yeah, that's what it feels like, Dean_ , Sam thought. _Welcome to being the third wheel_.

"... Never mind," Dean grumbled, grabbing another fistful of meat. "Sam, if you're not going to help, you can get out," he added waspishly.

Sam paused in staring at Cas to realise he'd only peeled one potato. "Oh, right... " he laughed, picking up the next one.

They kept it up while Cas rolled two more meatballs and Sam peeled about three potatoes, with Dean growing visibly more annoyed the longer Cas kept his eyes off of him.

"Okay, thanks for the help, guys," Dean said irritably. "I got it from here."

"Oh," Sam said innocently. "But I was going to show Cas how to use the potato peeler."

"I said I _got_ it," Dean snapped, and Sam beamed at Cas.

Cas returned it with a crooked smile, and all Dean could do was watch in confused panic.

━━✶━━

It took two days of Cas focusing on Sam for Dean up crack. He approaches Sam in the library, pulling out a chair with a loud scraping sound, and perching himself on it like a cop interrogating a suspect.

"Do you know what's crawled up Cas' ass? He's been ignoring me all day," Dean huffs.

" _Is_ he ignoring you?" Sam says, looking up from his book and observing how every muscle in Dean's body instantly tightens. "I didn't notice... Hey, has he done something different with his hair? It looks good, don't you think?"

Dean _gapes_ at him. "I- No, it's the same- What do you- _What_?"

"Huh," Sam shrugs, wary of laying it on too thick and giving himself away. "He just... Looked different today. I guess he's taking care of himself. He looks good."

"Good _how?_ " Dean demands, and Sam wonders how much he can get away with. He may be laying it on thick, but when it comes to Cas, Dean is _thicker_.

"I dunno, like... His eyes are really _blue_ , y'know? Which is the same as always, I guess, but... I dunno, it feels like I only just noticed it. You know?"

Dean looks at him like he's grown another head. "They've _always_ been blue," He says, then seems to realise what a ridiculous thing that it to say. "Is... Are you... ?"

It becomes obvious that Dean doesn't have the guts to confront the obvious flirting; instead, he sighs, and says, "Nevermind," as he pushed himself up from the table to leave.

He's clearly feeling the pressure. _Good_ , Sam thinks smugly.

━━✶━━

Dean starts doing things neither Sam nor Cas dreamed he would - after _one_ single week of Cas focusing on Sam.

"You bought- what is all this stuff?" Sam says as Dean starts unloading the trunk of the Impala. Tucked between the racks of knives, guns, holy water, salt, oil, and borax, is an array of gardening tools and seed packets. Sam's jaw drops when Dean pulls giant packaged bags of _soil_ out of the back seat.

"Cas said he wanted to start a veggie garden," Dean says in a voice that is trying so _hard_ to be casual.

"... _When_ did he say this?" Sam asks, genuinely baffled.

Is it his imagination, or does Dean look a little smug? "Oh, you know... You might not've been there for that conversation."

Sam tries very hard not to grin like an idiot, but the compulsion is strong. "So, we're starting a veggie garden... Underground?" He asks.

Dean frowns, looking at the _bumblebee-painted_ pot he's just pulled out of the car. "I mean... I was thinking we could either get some of those little lights like pot dealers have, or maybe we can just set it up above ground?"

Sam can't believe how _well_ this is working. He can't help but push his luck. "What's with the bees?" He asks, watching as Dean pulls out _yet another_ bee-themed pot.

Again, Dean preens. "Oh, you didn't know? Cas likes bees."

_Everyone_ goddamn knows that Cas likes bees. He peppers bee facts into everyday conversations. Sam can't think of a reason that he needs to know that several native Australian bees have no ability to sting, but here he is, knowing it. He could've lived a long, full life not knowing what royal jelly is, if not for Cas.

Dean is just so far gone, and Sam is _elated_.

Sam sees an opportunity to dig the knife in a little deeper, and he takes it, carefully schooling his face into a thoughtful expression. "That's a really good idea," He says, gesturing at the gardening tools. "Maybe I'll help him set it up."

Dean straightens suddenly, chest puffed out and eyes hard. "Oh? That's probably not- He probably wants to do it himself."

"What, you _weren't_ gonna help him?" Sam asks, crossing his arms. This is too easy.

Dean scoffs, crossing his arms in turn; mirroring Sam in a way he does when defensive. "I mean, if he wanted, sure, I'd help him get started," Dean says shortly.

"Well, I guess he'll appreciate _both_ our help," Sam says, puffing out his own chest a little.

"I guess he will," Dean snaps back, grabbing a bag of soil and marching it into the bunker.

This is way, _way_ too easy.

━━✶━━

When Dean tells Cas about the veggie garden, Cas can't help but _melt_ for Dean. He spends the day discussing his plans for the garden, and Dean pays rapt attention, hanging onto every word. Whenever Sam chimes in with suggestions, Dean interrupts him, and Sam has to keep standing behind Dean and waving his arms to get Cas to remember to _ignore_ Dean.

Sam cannot believe how easy it is to get Dean to cling to Cas... And how hard it is to drag Cas away from Dean. _How_ have they not already snapped and defiled every flat surface in the bunker?!

"So, Cas," Sam says loudly. "How about we start on the garden now?"

Cas manages to tear his eyes away from Dean's, looking surprised. "Now?" He asks.

Dean immediately straightens up, his head popping _right_ between Sam and Cas's eyeline. "Yeah, it'll be fun! Just like digging a grave, but easier, right?"

Sam can't help himself. "You sure, Dean? I'm sure it'll only require two-"

"I'm sure!" Dean snaps, head whipping around to glare daggers at Sam.

Sam holds his hands up in defeat. "Sure, whatever," He says with _deliberate_ faux nonchalance.

Dean gives him a tight, painfully fake smile in return.

Cas looks like he can't believe his luck.

━━✶━━

It really _is_ like digging a grave, but easier. "We just need to turn the soil, make it loose," Sam instructs Dean, who is digging like it's his God-given mission. _Or angel-given mission_ , Sam thinks. Dean attacks the soil a little more aggressively whenever Sam talks to him.

Cas is carefully laying out the seeds, already having lectured them on which plants cohabitate best (something about nutrients in soil, attracting the right kind of bugs, etc.) and having the time of his life.

Sam and Dean have a silent competition to do the most work the fastest, and Dean keeps trying to talk over Sam when Sam talks to Cas.

"Once we really get this going, we can expand it, get some more variety in this garden," Sam is saying casually, and Cas is nodding along, smiling warmly.

Dean glares at Sam, but his eyes turn soft when they land on Cas. "Yeah, there's, like, a _million_ seeds at Walmart. We can get a whole pumpkin patch going before Halloween! Have you ever carved a pumpkin before, Cas?

Cas looks like a kid who's just been told he's getting a _second_ Christmas. "I haven't," He says, earnestly. "It would be gratifying to carve a pumpkin that I had assisted in the growth of. Did you know that most varieties of pumpkins have male and female flowers, and the female flowers need to be pollinated with the male flower to grow the fruit?"

"I... Didn't know that," Dean says honestly.

"Sounds very _heterosexual_ to me," Sam says, because he can't _not_ say it.

Dean coughs into his fist, unable to look at anyone. "Halloween is in October, so we've got time to get the garden set up before then..."

For the rest of the time they spend on the new garden, Sam shoots Cas encouraging looks, and Dean notices every one.


	2. Bee Mine

━━✶━━

Sam ups the ante the next week.

He says he's going grocery shopping - and to be fair, he _does_ go grocery shopping. But he _also_ goes to the farm he's been messaging, and picks up his _special purchase_. He has warned Cas in advance to try and have a strong reaction to it, but was careful not to give away what it was. He's also lectured Cas on not letting Dean draw too much of Cas' attention to himself, either - this whole thing will only work if Dean's jealousy is strong enough to cloud his judgment.

He marches back into the bunker with the groceries, and happily announces, "Cas! I've got a surprise for you!"

Dean is in the room immediately, scanning Sam for the surprise. Sam gives him a shit-eating grin and offers the groceries. "Oh, Dean, could you unpack these for me? I just wanna show Cas something outside."

Dean is about to argue when Cas appears next to him. "What is it, Sam?" He asks eagerly, eyes locked onto Sam's, just like they practiced. Sam holds eye contact with Cas as he extends the bags to Dean.

Dean ignore the groceries. "Yeah. What is it, _Sam?_ " He says hotly.

Sam puts the groceries down on the ground and says, "Come up to the garden and I'll show you." He’s looking at Cas when he says it, but Dean is the first one up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

They all march up to the garden, and Dean sees it first; Sam can see him stiffen, shoulders going taut.

"I... Sam, really? For me?" Cas says, a sweet smile on his face that shows he's genuinely touched.

"They're a species native to the area," Sam says proudly, admiring the brightly painted hive box. "There's a little hobby farm nearby that keeps them, and I bought a hive for you - you know, to help pollinate the garden, and just... You know." For effect, he shuffles his feet and looks down shyly, as though he's _nervous_.

Dean looks like he's about to burst.

"Sam, _thank_ you," Cas says, grinning wide enough that his gums are showing. "They're lovely."

Dean is now looking at both of them, eyes darting between them like he can't believe what he's seeing.

Now it the _perfect_ opportunity to raise the stakes. "Bring it in?" He says to Cas, holding his arms wide.

Cas obediently moves forward and leans into Sam's chest, letting Sam wrap his arms around him.

Sam pretends not to look at Dean, but he's focusing on the sliver of furious denim and flannel in his peripheral vision. The one that looks like it doesn't know what to do with its hands and has also forgotten how to breathe.

He gives Cas a little squeeze before pulling away. "I knew you'd love it," He says cheerily.

When he looks at Dean, he _almost_ feels bad, because his older brother looks like he's _lost_.  
  


_Serves him right_ , Sam reminds himself. _All he has to do is get over himself, and Cas would jump him_.

━━✶━━

Sam and Cas are prepared for the next step.

After Dean had finished moping (staying in his room for several days, and only responding to people in monosyllabic grunts), he had stuck to Cas like glue. Helped him in the garden, did research with him, and insisted that Sam "take it easy" whenever he offered to assist in any way.

But for all that Dean stood closer, he didn't open up in any way. Cas had made a comment about Dean's closeness once, a humorous to reference Dean's favourite criticism of Cas. "I suppose I can forget those lessons on personal space, then," he'd said, leaning in closer.

Dean had _stepped back_. He'd looked at the ground, smile slipping off of his face, and it had been hard to coax him closer again.

Cas hated that the second he pointed anything out about their developing relationship, Dean ran for the hills.

"I am not sure how to proceed," Cas admits, finally managing to talk to Sam alone while Dean showered. "It seems that we are stuck in a _new_ rut."

"Progress is progress, Cas," Sam says gently. "We're on the right track. They didn't build Rome in a day, you know?"

"Of course I know that," Cas says, seemingly affronted. "I was _there_."

Sam sighs. "We just keep doing what we were doing. I have another idea, if you're game."

"I am 'game' for your idea, Sam," Cas says seriously.

━━✶━━

The ‘idea’ is a movie night; one of Dean's favourite activities with Cas.

It almost seems wrong to share this activity with Sam, without Dean there. Dean had shared with Cas some of the things that he enjoyed most about the world in their sessions watching various audio-visual media; things that had influenced Dean, in his speech and affectations, and his sense of style. Cas had felt a lot closer to Dean after these sessions.

So it was strange, to be cuddled close to Sam on the couch, watching _Brokeback Mountain_.

Sam had planted an idea in Dean's head deliberately, and now Dean was out buying Cas some bumblebee slippers. By which he meant he'd shown Cas a picture of them online, Cas had fawned over them, and Sam had mentioned he might head down to Target and pick up a pair for him... Dean had grabbed the keys and immediately said he'd do the grocery run. He'd be back any second to find them on the couch.

When Cas and Dean watched movies, they often sat in separate chairs that were pushed together, or lay on Dean's bed. Dean was careful to not sit or lie too close to Cas... Not until he was a few drinks in, at least. Then Dean might rest his head on Cas' shoulder, or press his thigh next to Cas'. Cas cherished those brief moments. However, if he reciprocated too hard, Dean had a tendency to pull away.

Sam had sat back on the couch, and insisted that Cas sit between his spread legs. It was like being in his lap, but he was neatly packed right at the junction of Sam's thighs, leaning back against Sam's chest, Sam's chin nestled atop Cas' unruly hair. It seemed a position designed to maximise the points at which their bodies touched.

"How long do we have to sit like this?" Cas asks, resisting the urge to wriggle.

"Just until Dean gets back, and then we have to pull apart like we didn't want him to see," Sam answers easily, eyes still on the movie. Cas gets the impression that Sam genuinely enjoys this film.

"So," Cas says slowly, watching Jake Gyllenhaal pull Heath Ledger into what looks like a non-consensual kiss. "We have to try and make Dean see us touching, and then act as though we didn't want him to see it."

"Exactly," Sam says confidently. "That way, he's gonna imagine all the ways we might be touching when he's _not_ around to see."

Cas nods, mind ticking over the thought of Dean agonizing over Cas' body being touched. He feels his face flush. He tries to turn his focus back to the film.

It is strange, to watch a sex scene while being cuddled.

Cas has seen sex before. As an angel, he didn't really pay attention to it, too focused on his missions over the eons. His first _real_ exposure was the pizza man, and somehow the thought that Dean was aroused by this had resulted in him sporting an erection that had lasted a considerable amount of time.

But to watch the actors on screen simulate coitus - one with dark hair and blue eyes, the other with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes that he could imagine as green - while Sam wrapped his enormous arms around his middle made him...

Made him feel. _Feel_ things. Low down, in his belly, and lower still.

"Uh, Sam," Cas murmured, wriggling a little, trying not to be too aware of Sam's own (soft) manhood pressing against his backside between a few flimsy layers of fabric. "I-"

The door of the bunker opened, and Sam and Cas both tensed, falling silent.

"I'm home!" Dean called, and Sam grabbed the remote and paused the movie.

"Cas?" Dean called, and Cas answered, "I'm here!"

Cas could feel Sam stifling laughter as Dean's footsteps hurried to where they were. He felt Sam turn his head around as Dean practically skidded into the room. Cas sat up to look over his shoulder at Dean, who looked like a deer caught in headlights, a pair of fuzzy yellow and black slippers hanging loosely from one hand.

"I thought you'd be home later!" Sam said, scooping up the remote and hitting- well, presumably he'd meant to turn it off, but he instead hit play.

The only sound in the room was Ledger and Gyllenhaal's lovemaking, until Sam managed to fumble with the remote and turn- "Whoops!" Sam said, turning the volume _up_.

"Allow me," Cas said, taking the remote from his hand and switching the TV off.

Cas sat up, swallowing hard. He wanted to rush to Dean's side and console him - he looked _broken_ , and Cas couldn't help but feel like he'd betrayed him on some level.

Unfortunately, he couldn't without exposing... Exposing the _effect_ the scene had had on him. He quickly grabbed a small, square cushion and pressed it onto his lap, a move that Dean's eyes followed.

"Did you... Did you want to join us?" Sam asked in a strained voice, slowly extricating himself from Cas, rolling awkwardly to the side to be able to stand up. "We were just... Watching a movie."

Dean seemed preoccupied with the cushion in Cas' lap. "Uh..."

"Or, you know... We could move our little watch party into my room?" Sam said, poking Cas in the shoulder.

"No, that's okay!" Dean said quickly. "I'll watch with you out here."

"You know what?" Sam said, pushing Cas off of his lap. "I don't... I don't really feel like watching anymore."

Dean looked relieved.

"How about a rain check, Cas?" Sam said, giving Cas' shoulder a squeeze.

"Of course, Sam," Cas said, hands wringing together over his lap cushion. "Anytime."

Sam moved to leave, putting himself between Dean and Cas to shoot Cas a sly wink, before he slipped out of the room.

Dean stayed where he was, enough awareness returning to him that he managed to lift his jaw off of the floor and close his mouth.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said quietly, fingers white from the force of his hand-wringing. He didn't dare move the cushion.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, voice low and face pale.

Then Dean did the unthinkable.

He came and sat down next to Cas.

Cas' whole body stiffened, though one part was _already_ considerably stiff.

"Got you these," Dean mumbled, dropping the fuzzy slippers between them.

"Thank you," Cas said, his voice sounding too deep, even to his own ears.

"You, uh..." Dean started, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his head. He didn't seem to be able to look directly at Castiel, and Cas wished he could just _tell_ him that he and Sam weren't together like that. Only the thought of how Dean would inevitably pull away made him pause.

Dean didn't seem to have anything further to say, just lapsed into silence, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground.

Cas, careful to hold the cushion in place with one hand, reached over and picked up the slippers. He placed them on the ground in front on him, and one-handed, slipped his own shoes and socks off of his feet. Then he slid his feet into the bumblebee slippers, wiggling his toes in the soft polyester fuzz. The little antennas jiggled with the motion, their giant, anatomically-incorrect blue eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Dean," He said sincerely.  
  


"Know you like bees," Dean mumbled, scratching at his jaw.

"Not as much as I like you," Cas said, clasping his hands over his lap pillow. "Thank you."

Dean paused, tilted his head, eyes squinting. Then he looked down at his own feet again, clearing his throat. "I... I guess I'll go get the groceries from the car."

"I'll help," Cas offered, before remembering his problem, eyes falling to his lap. "Oh-"

"Yeah?" Dean perked up, but when he looked up at Cas, Cas' eyes were firmly on the cushion. " _Oh._ "

"I... Might need to shower first, though," Cas said a small voice. "My apologies, Dean."

Dean nodded absently, eyes still on the cushion, lips pursed. "Uh-huh," He said, before clapping his hands on his knees and jumping abruptly to his feet. "Gotta put the ice cream away before it melts!" He announced, hurrying out of the room.

Cas hurried to the shower, furiously jerking himself off with Dean's name on his lips.

━━✶━━


	3. Trench coat, or school girl costume?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam can see that Dean is getting closer to cracking; he sets Cas up with a fool-proof plan to seduce Dean.
> 
> Dean has his _own_ idea about what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Content Warning_ for brief reference to previous sexual assault (April, the Reaper - got a whole fic about that here, if you want to know my headcanon regarding that! )

━━✶━━

"Last night went _perfectly_!" Sam crowed, patting Cas on the back. "Did you see his _face_?"

Cas looked longingly at the hallway to Dean's room, hoping that he would appear in the doorway, rather than remain locked in his room all day. Every time Sam tried to pull him out, he maintained that he was "cleaning his guns," and he should, "come back later." Sam had made a crude joke about Dean _polishing his weapon_.

Cas had only just rolled out of bed, late as usual, sipping a coffee in the kitchen. Sam kept topping up his cup, hovering around him trying to cheer him up.

"I _did_ see his face," Cas said finally, leaning over his coffee, looking at his dark reflection and wondering if this was doing more harm than good.

"And that thing you did with the _cushion_? I almost broke character, really - that was _so good_!"

Cas flushed, unwilling to correct him. "Dean seemed upset."

"Uh, _yeah!_ " Sam laughed. "But did he make a move, finally?"

Cas took another sip of coffee to delay answering. That seemed to be answer enough for Sam.

"Okay, maybe we need to take it up a notch," Sam said, a gleam in his eye that reminded Cas that Sam Winchester was the fated vessel for Lucifer.

"How many notches are there?" Cas asked suspiciously. "And which one will make Dean stop pulling away?"

Sam patted him on the shoulder again, giving him a sympathetic look. "I honestly don't know. He won't even talk to me about Dr. Sexy, and that's a _fictional_ crush."

"Dean seems to have deep-seated concerns about being perceived as being homosexual, regardless of his desires," Cas surmised grimly.

"You have _no_ idea," Sam replied sagely. "I think that we need to break out the big guns."

━━✶━━

Sam hadn't been kidding about the big guns.

And, unfortunately, Cas couldn't rely on Sam to carry the performance this time. This time, Cas would be facing Dean on his own. Sam had prepared him meticulously for this, talking him through it, and making him role play the conversation with Dean over and over until Sam thought Cas would be able to sell it.

Cas knocked hesitantly at Dean's door, and was met with a gruff, "Go _away_ , Sam."

"Hello, Dean," Cas said, and he heard a sudden burst of activity on the other side of the door, which just as suddenly burst open.

"Cas!" Dean said, holding the door mostly closed, only a sliver of his room visible. "What's up?"

"I was wondering if we could talk," Cas said, heart dropping at Dean's tired, red-rimmed eyes.

"Uh... Sure, what about?" He said, leaning on the door frame in a way that made it clear he wasn't about to invite Cas inside.

"About Sam."

Dean stared at him blankly for a moment, before glancing down the hallway - which was empty - and then slowly opening his door a little wider. "Sure, come on in."

Dean stepped aside and Cas trudged in, coming to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Dean sat on the end of the bed and looked up at Cas. He must have painted a pitiful picture, because Dean sighed and patted the spot next to him. "Mi casa, su casa," He said, shooting him a strained smile.

Cas sat beside Dean. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure where to start. He let his hands rest on his knees, and looked at his shoes.

"You... Wanted to talk?" Dean pressed, edging ever-so-slightly closer.

"Yes," Cas said. "About..."

Dean cleared his throat. "Right, what's up?"

He would start with something that was true, something that Dean already knew. "I'm a virgin," He said.

Dean blinked. "Huh?"

"I haven't had sexual relations before-"

"What about April?" Dean said blithely, and Cas flinched. In all the practice with Sam, April had never come up.

"I..." It was true, in a sense, that he had lain with April. "Sam said it didn't count," Cas explained, something which was _also_ true.

"Didn't- What? What, like, you only got to third base, or-?"

"When that happened, I talked to Sam about it, and he assured me that it didn't have to count it as my first, if I didn't want to," Cas said quickly.

"But... You _did_ -?"

"I didn't want to," Cas said in a rush, the words rushing out of him. "I... She was very insistent."

Dean paled. "Oh... _Fuck_ , I didn't- Oh..."

Cas brushed off his concern. "It's fine," he said. "I just mean... I was thinking... That I would like to try moving into a sexual relationship." _With you_ , he didn't say.

"With Sam," Dean said tightly.

_No_. "And I am... Nervous. About moving forward. I was wondering... Wondering if you had any advice for me," Cas said, relieved to at least have moved the conversation back on track.

Dean looked lost again, visibly struggling to find words. "I... What kind of advice? I mean... Been a long time since _I've_ been a virgin," He joked, laughing nervously.

Cas thought back to the prepared talking points that Sam had given him. "I am inexperienced with physical pleasure. Even taking care of my own needs is fairly new to me... Can I use the same method I use on myself on-" He nearly said _, 'on you,'_ but thankfully stopped himself, "... On a partner?"

Sam had cautioned against mentioning his name too much, as his seduction would be ruined if Sam was too close to the forefront of Dean's mind. Cas didn't really want to bring Sam into it either; part of him hoped that Dean would look into his eyes and _understand_ \- understand that he was really talking about _him_.

"Uh..." Dean shifted awkwardly, angling his body away from Cas a little, and Cas knew he was uncomfortable. "Why would you think I know anything about... About that?"

"Who else can I ask?" Cas replied easily. "I trust you more than anyone."

Dean seemed pleased by that answer. "Well... I guess it's true. I mean, what do you to- How-" Dean cut himself off, flustered again. "No, I mean, whatever you're doing, it's probably-"

"How do I pleasure myself?" Cas interjected. "I haven't had much experience, but my hand is usually adequate to stimulate me, both internally and externally."

Dean crossed his legs, running a hand over his mouth. " _Internally?_ " He repeated, eyes flicking over Cas' face.

"Yes, penetration," Cas clarified easily.

"You- You _do_ that?" Dean asked in a comically gruff voice, like he was trying to keep it from pitching up too high.

"Oh, yes - the prostate is a _very_ powerful-"

"Hold up, hold up," Dean said quickly, still sitting with his legs crossed. "So you're asking if you can do that to- to _Sam?_ "

Cas frowned. "Well..."

"Are you sure there's no one else you can talk to about this?" Dean asked, eyes pleading.

Sam had taught him how to respond to this question. "Well, I tried watching pornography," Cas said as casually as he could manage. "But I don't know how comfortable I am doing some of the things depicted there."

Cas could see a million questions flitting through Dean's head, just in the way his eyes widened and flitted over Castiel's face, as though he were seeing him for the first time.

Cas had, at Sam's suggestion, scrolled through a variety of pornographic content on the internet - for "inspiration" when he talked to Dean. Sam's idea was for Cas to describe as many sexual acts as possible, in the hope that Dean would break, and admit that he was interested.

The defeated look that Dean wore now made Cas worry that perhaps he wasn't interested after all. What if Dean was only upset that Cas wasn't good enough for Sam, and didn't actually care if Cas became involved with someone else?

"... Real sex isn't like porn," Dean said slowly, and Cas let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. "And if you see something you don't like, you don't have to do it."

"But the porn depicts real sexual acts," Cas answered, tilting his head as he tried to parse what that could mean. "Does real sex not include fellatio and anal penetration?"

Dean was stock still, face carefully blank, as he answered, "Why don't you tell me what you don't want to do - what'd you see that freaked you out?"

Cas hadn't prepared to talk about what he didn't want. This had seemed much easier when Sam was coaching him through the conversation. "I..." There were actually a lot of things that had seemed unpleasant. "I didn't enjoy when someone was spoken down to and reduced to something insignificant, or hurt in any way... I preferred the 'amateur' category, in which couples expressed their love through physical intimacy."

Dean's carefully blank expression wavered, lips turning into a frown. "Yeah?" He said neutrally. "What else?"

What else could he critique about porn, without saying, 'I hate that it wasn't you and me'?

... Well, at least one thing came to mind that had perplexed him. "I didn't understand the obsession with school uniforms."

"Don't knock it 'till you try it," Dean joked, though he held himself in that strained way that he did when he was quipping to deflect from tension.

"... So I should wear a school uniform?" Cas asked - it made sense, as the cartoon women Dean enjoyed were often in school skirts. Though the gendered nature of the garment highlighted the ways Cas was inadequate to Dean...

Dean was silent for a moment. A long moment. Then he blinked, cleared his throat again, and said, "You definitely don't need to dress up, Cas. It's fine."

"So you would prefer me nude?" Cas asked, carefully phrasing it as Dean's preference, as per Sam's coaching.

"I- it's not about what I want, it's about-" Dean blanched, undoubtedly struggling with the idea of thinking what Sam's preferences might be.

"I was thinking of keeping my coat on," Cas said, a line that Sam had insisted he try and work into the conversation, for unfathomable reasons. "I could remove everything else, but keep wearing my coat."

Dean cleared his throat again, and shifted his hips, turning a little further away from Cas.

Why did he keep turning away?

Cas, desperate, decided to try the lines Sam had insisted would 'get a rise' out of Dean. "I don't think that I have a gag reflex, but I am new to fellatio, and was hoping you'd tell me your preferences in how you like to be fellated?"

Dean rested his elbow on his crossed knee, resting his chin on his hand, and stared at a space a few inches to the side of Castiel. He appeared deep in thought... Until his expression soured. "Why don't you just ask Sam what he wants?"

Because I don't want to fellate Sam! "I was hoping for your insight," He said instead, mind flitting through other topics Sam had prepared for him. "How do I prepare myself for anal penetration? Are my fingers sufficient? Would you perhaps accompany me to purchase a plug that I could insert to keep myself open?"

Dean's eyebrows rose to his hairline, sucking in a deep breath.

"I- I wouldn't know about any of that," He said quickly.

Sam had foreseen this. "You have never had anal sex with a woman?" He pressed.

Dean shifted his hips, bit his lower lip. "... I mean-"

"I assumed the preparation would be the same," He went on. "After all, there's no difference between a man's anus or a woman's." Another line from Sam.

"Well, that's true, but-" Dean had gradually been hunching lower and lower, but now he took a deep breath and sat up straight - legs still crossed, body still angled away from Castiel. "You know, you don't even have to do that, if you don't want to. You can stick to just... Hands. And- and mouth."

"I do want to, though," Cas said emphatically. "I think I would enjoy it immensely." What was the line Sam had said? "I would like to ride someone... Reverse cowgirl."

"Fuck," Dean hissed, so quietly that Cas barely heard it. He was now gripping his crossed knee tight enough that the knuckles were losing their colour.

"The only issue is that I would prefer to be able to kiss during lovemaking, and that position doesn't provide much opportunity," Cas lamented.

Dean coughed. "Well, that depends how flexible you are."

"Well, I am very flexible," He said, another truth.

"That's... Okay. I think I..." Dean's eyes darted to the door, as though he were planning on escaping.

Cas could see Dean slipping through his fingers again.

Dean glanced at his lap, then at the door, face focused as though he were doing intense mental calculations.

Cas couldn't bear it. He placed his hand over the one on Dean's knee and pleaded, "Please. Just tell me how you'd want me."

Dean leapt away as though he'd been burned, hurriedly moving to stand facing the wall. "I think you should go, Cas," He said roughly. "Just... Go ask Sam. Trust me. He'll..." Dean sighed heavily, shoulders sagging. "He'll take care of you."

Cas still had his hand out, reaching for Dean... He slowly pulled it back, hugging himself, not moving from the foot of Dean's bed. "So I should stop talking with you, and just have sex with Sam," He surmised, voice flat. This hurt.

He heard Dean's hissed, "Oh my God...", but Dean didn't say anything else. Just kept standing facing the wall, not even looking at Cas.

"I'll just... Go, then," Cas said, standing on legs that barely seemed to hold his weight now. He made himself walk, mechanically, to the door, pausing at the threshold.

But what was there left to say? Dean would never say anything. If Cas dared to push, Dean pulled away. It seemed, more and more, that the only explanation left was that Dean would never allow them to be anything more than what they were now.

Dean continued to ignore him. So he left.

Sam would be disappointed.

━━✶━━

Sam was furious.

"He just told you to go ahead and _sleep with me?_ " Sam cried in disbelief.

Sam was pacing back and forth across Cas' room, Castiel laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"This is- his head is _so_ far up his own ass, I-" Sam paused in his pacing, fixing Cas with a fiery look. Cas glanced down from the ceiling to meet his eyes. "You said he crossed his legs, though - that's a good sign. We just need to push _harder_."

"How much harder can we push?" Cas sighed. "Maybe he really does just see me as his 'brother'."

"Cas, he called _Benny_ brother, and I would give my _left testicle_ if Dean didn't have a crush on him."

Cas sat up and tilted his head, regarding Sam. "Who would you give your testicle to?"

Sam gave him that exasperated look that he hated. "No- look, the point is, Dean definitely, _definitely_ is- well, he definitely _wants_ this, okay? He's just so-" Sam cut himself with a groan of frustration.

Cas lay back down and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Sam came to stand at the foot of the bed, crossing his arms. "I'm gonna talk to him," he said with a tone of finality.

"What do you think that will achieve?" Cas asked, dour.

"He wouldn't tell you not to sleep with me, right? Probably because he wants you to want him, even though he's too chicken-shit to act on it when you try. But with _me?_ " Sam gave him a crooked smile. "He'll be so jealous - I will make him so jealous, that he'll crack."

Cas may have been losing hope, but Sam spoke with such confidence... "If you think it'll help."

"Oh, I _know_ it'll help."

━━✶━━

It took Sam a long time to find Dean.

He'd tried all the usual places - his room, where he tended to gravitate. The kitchen, where he liked to clean and organise, when he wasn't trying his hand at cooking. The garage, where he was often found polishing or maintaining the fleet of vehicles. He'd even tried the laundry, even thought it wasn't "laundry day", as sometimes Dean just liked to clean his sheets and have fresh ones at the ready.

He hadn't even considered that he'd be in the library, pouring over books.

Not that Dean didn't read, but when he did, it was a novel, in his room. Not sitting, surrounded by a pile of books open on various pages - more closed books in loose piles around him - a sheet of paper covered in the scrawls of a madman next to him.

Sam cleared his throat, and Dean jumped, slamming the book in front of him closed. "Cas?" He said gruffly.

"Guess again," Sam said, sauntering into the room.

Dean's posture shifted from defensive to aggravated. "Right," he muttered, quickly closing the rest of the books.

"Whatcha reading?" Sam asked casually, sitting across from Dean on the table. "There a case I don't know about?"

Dean gave him a strained smile. "Can't a guy just want to be prepared for anything? There's a lot of knowledge just sitting here, might as well use it..."

"I mean, it'd be a first for you." Sam picked up one of the books, inspecting the cover. " _'Witchcraft: Spells of the Mind_ '," he read aloud. "You got a new hobby?"

This had to have something to do with Cas, Sam was _sure_ of it.

Dean grabbed the book back roughly. "None of your beeswax."

_Speaking of Cas..._ "You know, _Cas_ probably has some beeswax. You know, from his new hive."

Dean tossed the book to the side and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, that same strained smile plastered on his face. "You two have seemed _real_ close, lately," He said, tilting his head in question.

Sam shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess - I mean, he's a good guy... We're spending more time together now that he lives here."

Dean's eyes narrowed, his smile straining further. "Seems awfully _fast_ , don't you think?"

" _Fast?_ " Sam laughed. "We've known him for... What, _six years?_ We've fought and won against the apocalypse together? He dragged me outta the cage, then took the trauma of that out of my soul and into his? That's _fast_ , to you?"

He watched the faux-smile slip from Dean's face. "Well- I mean, sure, you've- I mean, _this_ is new."

" _What's_ new?" Sam pressed, mirroring Dean's posture, leaning forward on his elbows.

Dean shifted, gaze darting away from Sam, the gears visibly turning in his head as he calculated his approach. At last, his eyes met Sam's, anxious but determined. "Cas told me that you guys want to-"

Just like that, Dean lost his steam, breath coming out in a rush.

"Sorry, what'd he tell you?" Sam asked innocently.

Dean glared at him, but seemed unable to _say it_.

Sam let him stew in that moment, not about to throw Dean a lifeline when he was completely capable of saving himself. _Even now? Even now, he won't talk about it?_ Really?

Dean maintained his silence, and Sam's frustration grew. "Oh, did he tell you about how we're planning on going to the Kansas Zoo?"

It was the fake date idea that he'd had. He honestly hadn't thought he'd need to use it.

"The- What?" Dean sat back, frowning.

"Yeah, it's only a couple hours drive away... I was thinking about getting a motel there and staying with him overnight." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "You know... So we can have more time at the zoo."

"I don't think we have time for a trip to the _zoo_ ," Dean said petulantly.

"Well, it'd just be me and him," Sam said with a shrug. "You could be here to hold down the fort, give us a call if anything comes up that you need us for?"

"No, no, I'll come along," Dean said quickly.

"I was really thinking it would just be the _two_ of us," Sam responded easily.

"Well, _I_ was thinking that we _all_ need a break," Dean shot back.

"I thought you said that we didn't have time for a trip to the zoo?" Sam said, suppressing a victorious smirk at Dean's flailing.

"I- well, I guess it couldn't hurt..." Dean mumbled.

Sam went for the killing blow. "I hope that you don't mind getting a separate room?"

Dean gaped at him, frozen for a moment. He blinked, recovering, though his voice wavered as he said, "We can't pay for _three rooms_ , Sammy."

"Oh, we'd only need two. One for you, one for me and Cas."

"I-" Dean started, stopped - leant forward, then paused, and sat up straight instead. His mouth opened and closed.

"Is that a problem?" Sam pressed, a challenge in his voice.

Dean's face hardened, glaring at Sam with real venom. "You know he's a virgin."

Sam could _not believe this_. But at least Dean was finally _voicing_ the subtext that Sam had been practically _screaming_ at him.

While the knife was in, Sam might as well twist it. "Well, I can fix that."

Sam actually jumped when Dean hit the table with his fist, looking like he was ready to jump out of his seat, or leap over the table.

"Is there a problem?" Sam said waspishly, uncrossing his arms, ready to jump out of his _own_ seat.

Dean's anger was palpable. "You know he came to _me_ , right? 'Cause he's freaking out about-" Dean faltered a moment, but to Sam's glee, he steeled himself and pressed on. "'Cause he's freaking out about sleeping with _you_."

" _Did_ he?" Sam said, hoping his voice didn't sound as _giddy_ as he felt. "Well, I guess I'll have to talk to him, huh? Find out for myself. Maybe I can ask him all about it on our _trip to the zoo_."

"Sam-" Dean grit his teeth, shaking his head, eyes falling to the books on the table. Seriously, _what_ was he doing with them? "Just... Hold off, okay? Trust me. Take your- take your time." Dean abruptly stood, gathering up as many of the books as he could manage, overloading his arms with them.

Sam watched him, perplexed. "Hold off?" He repeated, watching Dean flee the room with an armful of books, some of them falling out of his arms and littering the floor as he fled.

"Yes- please!" Dean shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared around the threshold. "Just trust me!"

Sam watched the space where Dean had disappeared, mind racing. He inspected a few of the titles of the books Dean left behind; _'Bewitching the Senses'_ , _'Spells of the Heart'_ , _'A Witch's Guide to Cupid'_.

Huh. Maybe Dean really _did_ think this was a case.


End file.
